


Bleed It Out

by ix_tab



Series: This Is What Love Looks Like [2]
Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Golden Lovers, Late Night Phone Calls, M/M, Shout Out To LGBT Ally Chase Owens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 13:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14045574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ix_tab/pseuds/ix_tab
Summary: Feeling adrift after his loss in the NJ Cup, Kota calls the one person he wishes more then anything was in the bed next to him. Sometimes, love is enough to soothe the bruises after being knocked down.Warning: This fic touches briefly on the nonconsensual kisses forced on Kenny and Kota by Cody and Brandi. Didn't want anyone to be blindsided by that!





	Bleed It Out

**Author's Note:**

> I've continued to have a lot of Golden Lovers feelings and wanted to explore some of the developments in the Golden Lovers storyline! That's about it!
> 
> As I said in the summary, there is a bit of discussion about the nonconsensual kissing. 
> 
> Title from the song 'True Trans Soul Rebel' by Against Me!, which I cannot recommend highly enough

Kota knows its late where Kenny is, probably, but thinking about time zones is impossible right now.

Besides, Kenny had said to call him whenever he needed. 

He needs to, now. They both promised to be honest with this, with each other. Miscommunication, hidden feelings, resentment killed them last time. 

So he clicks Kenny’s name, laying on his bed, staring up blankly up at the ceiling.

Kenny picks up on the 4th ring. He sounds punch drunk, and it gives Kota a stomach churning sense of fear before he remembers that he’s just woken Kenny up.

“You ok?” Kenny asks blearily, before even saying hello. Even in this dim place Kota finds himself in, it makes it a bit easier to hear Kenny’s concern. 

“I...lost. I tried so hard, I have you back, I’m better then ever, and I still lost,” Kota squeezes out from deep inside. It hurts. It feels selfish. it feels weak.

But he knows it, he’s seen it. If you can’t grieve your losses, if you don’t move on from them, they can poison you. And it’s not the end of the world, but he does. He does feel a grief. He hadn’t expected it to hit him hard, because he is so happy.

“Oh, Bu-san. Kota. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but I’m sorry that this happened. You did so well...I’ve been proud. I’m still proud. Just proud to have you by my side,” Kenny says softly, obviously searching for words that won’t insult him or cheapen the feelings.

Kota viciously presses the heel of his hand into his right eye, to stop the tears in there from falling. Breathes out, one, two.

“I love you. I’m proud of you too. Miss you. I just got you back and now we're oceans apart,” Kota finally says. Kenny had been breathing with him, not rushing him. 

“Yeah. Fuck. I feel like a teenager here, I keep thinking ‘this many days til I’m with Kota again’. It’s kinda needy,” Kenny sheepishly admits. Kota smiles, small but genuine for the first time in what feels like years.

Even though admitting the loss out loud, away from cameras and bright lights feels like reopening a wound, Kenny’s soft voice is healing him, enough to move through.

“I bet you were a cute teenager, Kenny-tan,” Kota teases, and he can’t see but he feels the fond eyeroll that Kenny responds with.

“I was an insufferable teenager, as you already knew, and I know you were as well. This is why we are so good together,” Kenny replies. Kota feels a sweet warmth bloom up inside, settle in, dissolve some of the frustration and misery that’s been dragging him down.

Kenny is quiet for a moment too long. Kota finds himself holding his breath because he suddenly senses it, realises that Kenny is trying to use a joke to ease into something more painful. Deflect with humor to try and lessen the impact.

“I...know it’s not the same thing. But I’m glad you called. I was going to call you but I needed to get some space from it. I feel like I lost too. I thought I’d got something over on Cody...and then Brandi just grabbed me. ...Kissed me. It was. It was not good,” Kenny says after a while, and the sweet warmth inside Kota is joined by a spike of white hot rage. Kenny sounds helpless, despairing.

“I saw. I heard. Everyone felt the need to tell me, or ask me about it. I was so angry, but I needed to wait for you to say anything, “ he says, and Kenny’s breathing picks up, rabbit fast.

‘I didn’t! I didn’t kiss her, I swear! Kota please-” Kota cuts off Kenny’s pleading, his panic before he can spiral. 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t say that right. I wasn’t angry with you, I was angry for you,” he says, and hates that he heard that much fear in Kenny’s voice.

“I was so angry. It's not right, what they are doing to us, saying about us. Touching us, and then blaming us, saying we liked it. Disgusting. I hate it, hate them for it,” Kota says fiercely, and isn’t surprised when he hears Kenny choke back what might have been his own tears. 

“Yeah. Thank you, thank you for believing me. It’s fucking with me, that some people don’t,” Kenny says, getting himself settled again. 

“I’m in your corner, Kenny. And no one who has half a brain and saw that, thought that you were ok. Ahh! I’m angry all over again now,” Kota says, and it’s true. 

When he had first seen it, he’d felt a sinking sense of rage, and sorrow. When Cody had grabbed him, he’d been able to answer back with his fists and then that small moment where Kenny ignored the match, just to check on him. Kenny’s affectionate hand through his hair, the gentle concern and absolute trust when he had said that yes, he was ok.

It had made all the difference. 

And then, Kenny, in America, no one beside him, having to shake it off, trying to cover for it with bravado. He’d seen how lost Kenny had been before he’d slipped back into his professional self, strong and cocky.

“It’s so messy, and I’m tired, Bu-san. I know that lots of this is my doing, I’m not trying to say it isn’t. But this shit? This isn’t on me, it’s definitely not on you, and fuck anyone who says different,” Kenny gets out. 

Kota knows that this, this is a bleeding of the wounds too. It feels awful to talk about it. But now, it’s going to heal smooth and clear, without scars too. They are going to heal together.

“Don’t focus on them, focus on what’s next,” Kota begins and then lets out a sigh. “... I guess I can’t say that, without taking my own advice,” he admits and he feels Kenny’s pride in him, Kenny’s concern and love transmitted by whatever strange link they’ve shared through all these years. 

It’d been closed off or tangling around them both in the worst ways, for a lot of that time, but now it’s back and it’s the difference between night and day to feel Kenny again.

“You have, like what? 50 more tag matches to do? With Chase? I know you said it’s been going well, I hoped it would. Chase is a great guy,” Kenny says. It’s good to hear the little spark of Kenny back, wavering thought it is. 

If he’d continued to sound so afraid, so hurt Kota would have gotten himself fired to fly to America a few days early. And possibly arrested. It’s a little scary to him, the protectiveness that he feels. 

He’d spent so long ignoring Kenny’s wistful and petty needling. Half convinced himself that it was in the past, but unable to stop himself feeding the fire now and then, unable to stop watching Kenny in the ring, beautiful in his movements.

But it had been willful ignorance, because it had taken a split second before he’d rushed into save Kenny. His body moving before his brain caught up, finding himself yelling incoherently at the fleeing traitors, as Kenny lay at his feet, like a marionette with the strings cut.

He’s trying to moderate it now, that urge. Keep it on a regular level. He knows Kenny’s feeling it too, their hands both cupped around this new flame, sheltering it from the storm.

He’s not been entirely successful, he reflects, as he remembers pushing Kenny as fast as he could, away from the Bucks and to their match. It may have been a slightly melodramatic moment. He also remembers the way Kenny had melted into his touch, not fighting it even a little, though he put up token vocal protests to his friends.

“Sorry, just thinking. Yes, I have several tag matches. With Chase. He is nice, I like him. He’s the favourite of my new in-laws,” Kota says, a little sardonically. It feels good to hear Kenny laugh at that, all the big bad emotions in him subsiding slowly. He’s left with a soft fondness for the man sharing this moment with him. The shift of that grey, heavy cloud is enough to make him feel weightless, free of gravity for a moment.

“You’ve married into a kind of, uh, rowdy family? I guess? I hope it’s at least bearable to work with them all. I know you probably won’t mesh well with some of the stuff that happens, but they are reliable men, and we all spoke, they promised me it was alright,” Kenny says. Kota feels an eyeroll of his own coming on.

“You don’t need to mother me, Kenny. I know it was you that got Chase to ask me to consider not moonsaulting off anymore balconies. Don’t make him our go between, he’s already putting up with enough,” Kota playfully scolds, and Kenny laughs again.

“Ok, ok, that’s my bad. Sorry, it just sucked that I wasn’t there and I...I worried. God, I’m gonna buy Chase..something. Whatever he wants as thanks. I’m going to buy Chase Owens a fucking pony,” Kenny says, and now Kota is laughing too.

“You can’t solve everything in this life by giving people ponies as thank you gifts, Kenny,” Kota says, still laughing, starting to gasp a little when Kenny mutters “I can fucking try!”

He misses Kenny suddenly, misses him physically. He wants to play with Kenny’s stupid, endearing curls, wants to feel the heat of his skin, taste the salt of his sweat. He’s too tired, bodily, emotionally to do anything with it, but it’s there. He can’t resist pushing his own, and Kenny’s buttons a little.

“So,” he asks, purposefully dropping his tone an octave or two, “What are you wearing, Kenny?”

“”Well, I’m not wearing the bear suit anymore, so I’m sorry to ruin the fantasy,” Kenny replies, and it’s easy, it’s magically easy to joke with Kenny again, and have it feel good.

“It’s a pity, I thought it was a bit of a fashion upgrade,” he says. Kenny snorts.

“People who only wear supreme shirts aren’t allowed to criticise my aesthetic,” and Kota can hear the yawn in Kenny’s tone. He wants to talk to him forever, but at some point both of them need rest.

“Well, I suppose I do like it when you wear shirts I can see your nipples through. Gives me ideas. But, anyway, it’s probably late for you. You need to get some rest,” Kota says cheerfully, reveling in the sharp intake of breath Kenny makes.

“You are evil. I’m too wrecked to get hard and you are gonna talk about my nipples? I don’t need this,” Kenny complains. Kota presses the phone closer to his ear, to hear all the shifts in Kenny’s voice. 

He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye, Kenny’s expression, his own hands sneaking up Kenny’s chest. A thought to hold onto for their reunion.

“When we are back together again, remind me that we have to wrestle at some point. Because otherwise whatever episode of being the elite they film is just going to be us making out in the background of weird dick tricks and travelouges,” Kota half jokes. 

He’d do it. He’d do it in a heartbeat, and it wouldn’t entirely be about stamping Kenny with a clear sign that says MINE in big bold, unmissable letters.

“Sounds good. It would be a new angle. We’ll both wear our new shirts and you can bridal carry me over the threshold of whatever cheap hotel they put us up in,” Kenny says, with a little wicked intent behind his words. Kota wonders whether he should be shopping for a ring.

“But, now, now sleep. Thank you, I miss you, I love you,” Kota says, all jokes gone, just sincerity. He needs Kenny to understand how real this is, they are. He knows instantly that Kenny is on the same page, that old connection thrumming back at him with the same energy.

“Love you, miss you too. Not long now. Bu-san, let's make the world know how good we are,” Kenny says earnestly, and Kota murmers a soft agreement. They were going to shine brighter then anyone else.

Golden lovers, the golden star and the end of all things beamed bright across the skies. No one was going to ignore them, dismiss them, call their love fake or fraudulent when they exploded, supernova in the faces of everyone who doubted.

They both say gentle goodbyes, and Kota hangs up the phone, weary but not exhausted. 

Tomorrow is a new day, and that day brings him closer, brings Kenny closer back into his orbit.


End file.
